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Chapter 4

It had been almost 3 hours since we'd rushed Ponyboy to the emergency room. No one had updated us on his condition, nor were we allowed to see him. Two-Bit was sitting solemnly, head in his hands, looking as miserable as I felt.

Darry hadn't said a word - he just sat on one of the cold, plastic chairs and stared at the floor. I knew he was thinking about how he was to blame for the stabbing, and I also knew it was best to just give him some space.

Soda hadn't left my side. His way of dealing with trauma was to keep busy, and his current task was to ask me every milisecond if I was okay, if I needed anything, or did I want to talk? I was trying to keep the irritation out of my voice; I wanted nothing more than to be by myself and let my subconcious take over the task of punishing me for what I knew was my fault. I hadn't quite figured out why it was my fault, but like I said: I always needed someone to blame, and this time I'd chosen myself.

Darry had given me his hoodie and I wrapped it tightly around myself; partly for warmth, mostly for protection.

"Are you hungry, Jessie?" Soda asked me for the upteenth time.

"I'm fine."

"You haven't eaten since lunch. Why don't we -"

"Soda! Just leave me alone." I snapped. He looked stung, and I immediately felt bad. "I'm really not hungry, I just want to see Pony."

Soda nodded, "Me too, Jellybean."

"I'm going to ask whoever's in charge of this damn place where the hell my brother is!" Darry said, getting to his feet. He stomped away angrily in the direction of the receptionist and I could see him gesturing wildly at her. No one said a word.

I curled up next to Soda, my head on his chest, and began to cry. I barely made a sound, but my whole body shook as the events of the day crashed around me. So much had been sucked out of me - emotions, tears, hurts, memories - and I felt like a shell. A hollow, pitiful shell. Soda said nothing, just wrapped his arms around me and let me cry.

I couldn't remember ever being so terrified in my life. I knew Pony was in bad shape and right then I would've taken a stab wound to replace the hurt I was feeling in my heart. Hadn't I lost enough? My parents, Dallas, Johnny. Each of those losses had inflicted me like the plague - their deaths had torn me apart, body and soul. And when I was finally starting to recover, to pick up the pieces, another blow. My brother, my twin, my best friend.

I decided not to think about it. If I didn't think about it I couldn't hurt anymore, and that was all I wanted.

Darry came back, and his voice shook as he told us, "We're allowed to see him now."

I got shakily to my feet and followed Soda, Two-Bit and Darry down a long hallway. It smelled like sickness and pain and death and I felt like vomiting.

"They're not sure what to expect. The wound was deep and even though they stitched it up, there's a risk of infection and they might have to operate. He's on oxygen - he passed out from severe blood loss which is why he wasn't breathing." Darry told us as we approached a room.

I instinctively clutched Soda's hand and the four of us walked in, unsure of what to expect, and afraid to expect much. I felt my eyes well up with tears again as I saw Pony on that hospital bed, tubes up his nose, hooked up to a heartrate monitor, face bruised and bandaged. He looked so helpless and I wanted to shake him awake and scream at him for being so careless.

Pony's eyes fluttered open, and he stared blearily at us. A tentative grin spread across his face, "Hey guys."

It was all too much. I couldn't stand to be in this place anymore. Who voluntarily came to a hospital? I felt like the walls were closing in, and I couldn't breathe. I turned to run away, but Soda had apparently guessed my intentions and grabbed me by the shoulders before I could bolt.

"Let me go." I whispered. I jerked, but he tightened his grip, "You're hurting me!"

"Jessie, you can't run away."

"I can't stay here, Soda. I can't." He led me over to the bedside where Darry was gripping Pony's hand.

"Hey, Pony." I said quietly, hesitantly.

"Hey, Jess." I guess I looked as awful as I felt because he added, "It's okay, Jess. I'm gonna be okay."

"I have to go," I muttered.

"Don't leave. I'm sorry about what I said earlier." Pony's voice was small and weak as he reached out for my hand.

I jumped back out of his grasp. "I need to go. I ...I have homework."

"Jessie, what's wrong with you?" Darry asked sharply.

I ignored him. I had no idea what was wrong with me. I glanced at Pony. He looked so pained I couldn't leave him. I sat down tentatively at the edge of his bed. "Does it hurt?"

He shrugged, "Yeah, like hell. But I'll be fine. I'm okay."

I nodded. I suddenly felt incredibly tired so I crawled over and lay down beside my brother, resting my head on his pillow. I could hear voices around me as I drifted off to sleep, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. I just slept and slept, and thanked God that I didn't dream.